Round 3: Sir Fedlund Overby vs. Solomon [Archive]

Solomon

04-29-07, 11:04 PM

Quiet now... Don't make a sound. Solomon encouraged himself as he tip-toed his way around the faded granite of the dim kitchen's countertop. They stuck out so awkwardly, it was almost as if they were strategically placed to slow down intruders. They were piled high with clutter, little knick-knacks and recipe books, not to mention a few crusts and crumbs from countless plates that had gone unwashed. If he did so much as nudge one of these piles of junk, there was no doubt there'd be an avalanche.

The only light that shone in came from the hallway lamp that illuminated the way to the stairwell and the living room, both of which sat vacantly in the slumber of the late night. Other than that there was nothing, for the clouds covered the moon and the stars tonight. Not that they could have given much light through the tree tops anyway. This dusty old house sat in the middle of nowhere.

"You want me to break into his house and take his cap?!?" Solomon repeated the instructions the two strangers had given him like they were ludicrous. However the men who dressed in matching suits, the same ones who had sent him to the citadel to prove his worth in a fight, just stared back at him with serious looks hanging off their aged faces.

"It is one of our artefacts." One of the men said. "Now that you have proven your abilities by winning your battle, we know you can handle this."

"We have twice offered to buy it at a high price, but he will not part with it." The second man said. "He is not to be taken lightly, he is a collector of many things, but he does not know the importance this cap has to us. He is a strong spell caster, and even with your skill I would advise you to go when he is asleep. If he finds you, you may find yourself a toad or a stone statue the rest of your days."

"Alright then." Solomon said, his heavy breath easily showing his reluctant acceptance. "Alright... what does it look like, where can I find it?"

Apparently he was looking for a brown, cloth cap with a golden weaving that formed the picture of men walking, three by three. The only other distinction it had was that it looked old. It was a completely standard garment otherwise. He had watched the man the day before. He was a stout old fellow with a wrinkled frown that seemed to sit permanently upon his brow. He hadn't spent his day doing much of interest at all. He looked like a man who was thoroughly bored with his days at this point in his life.

He rose neither early or late, ate a small breakfast, and then sat by the river nearby his house while he continued sewing something he had started sometime before. He only went to town as far as the postal office, where he delivered a letter without saying a greeting to anyone. Afterwards he went back to his home where he ate more, sewed, and then vanished into his study until the evening. He was in bed now. Solomon was sure of that. He had waited outside his house and watched the candle in the window diminish. That was well over two hours ago.

He had entered through the kitchen door, and closed it softly behind him as he tried to make his way around the haphazard piles. For the house's age it didn't make as many moans and groans as he was expecting. However, he couldn't take a step anywhere without stirring up the dust that the man had neglected to clean up. So long as he searched this place quietly, he should be able to find it before too long.

Check the living room first. Solomon planned his course of action carefully, standing in the doorway where the lantern glowed softly. It's bound to be hanging in a closet, or dresser drawer somewhere.